


The Barmaid

by frxzen



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-17 00:13:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2289872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frxzen/pseuds/frxzen





	1. Curtain Up

**Curtain Up**

 

Aoi Tanaka was an average sort of person. She was cheerful, maybe, beautiful incontestably, but average nonetheless. She had average grades, average popularity, average creative abilities. She was just average; normal in fact. Positively ordinary.

 

It was her utter average-ness that lead her to move countries, this time alone at the age of seventeen, to live with her uncle's son Izumo Kusanagi. This man wasn't quite as average as his cousin, but we'll come to that later.

 

It was also her average-ness that gave her potential, that allowed her to be part of a world she should not know of. Her complete ordinarity was, in a way, what made her different from anyone else. It is debatable, however, if any of this was a good thing.

  
This story is a story of Kings and Clans. It is a story of Strains and barmaids. It is a story of happiness. But most of all, this is the story of Aoi Tanaka.


	2. Aoi Doesn't Listen

**i. Aoi Doesn't Listen**

 

-SHIZUME CITY AIRPORT, SHIZUME-

 

Our heroine of a kind, Aoi Tanaka, leaned back against the brick wall of the airport, one arm wrapped around her stomach and the other hand gripping her phone. Due to a series of unfortunate occurrences, she was told in as little detail as possible, her cousin would be late to pick her up from the airport. Aoi heaved a sigh and allowed her shoulders, unusually broad for a woman, to slump.

 

She couldn't say it surprised her. Her cousin was, well, a lazy git for the most part. She should have seen it coming.

 

Aoi took the opportunity, handed to her by the prospect of at least another half hour of waiting, to reacquaint herself with the idea of being in Japan. Taking a seat on one of her two suitcases she breathed in deeply and sighed, drinking in the sights, the smells. There was something about Japan that she loved that you could never find in England. Her thoughts wandering across the ocean and back to her old home in England, the girl slipped into a daydream, her eyes glazing over as she stared off into the distance with her chin in the palm of her hand.

 

Huffing in annoyance, Aoi sat back. There was no point in thinking about England; she had left for a reason. Presently and for the foreseeable future she was and would be in Japan, so that is where her thoughts would stay.

 

The teenager ran a hand through her thick brown curls, her pert features twisting into a scowl as she caught a knot. After fumbling for the hairbrush she stashed in her handbag (once she read the Percy Jackson series she made certain all her hair-brushes were both blue and plastic for they seemed to be the most useful kind) she set to work removing the lug, her irritation beginning to show.

 

 _Brush_. Where. _Brush_. Was. _Brush_. Izumo?

 

-HOMRA BAR, SHIZUME-

 

"Now, do you remember what I told you?" Izumo asked his friends for the fourth time, his index finger pinching the bridge of his nose as if he was trying to hold his mental state together just by that action. How hard could it be to remember how to look after a customer? Pretty damn hard if this was anything to go by.

 

 _"Yes."_ The boys in front of him replied, sullenly. Yata Misaki and Rikio Kamamoto; probably not the ideal bar-sitters but considering his only other options were a nine year old girl and a sullen oaf who wouldn't surface until well past noon, Izumo decided he would take his chances.

 

"Good, it took you long enough." Izumo said with a sigh, shrugging his coat on and producing his car keys from a pocket. "Now I'm going to pick up my cousin. _Be careful."_

 

Izumo moved at his usual leisurely pace out of the door and to his car, despite being half an hour late, even taking out a cigarette and lighting it up. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about picking up his cousin, it was just that it wasn’t in his nature to hurry.

 

Once at the airport it didn't take him long to pick out his cousin from the others outside the airport. She was the one with the distinctly irritated look on her face; her pink lips sloping diagonally in disgust, her boot heel tapping staccato on the pavement.

 

"Oi." Izumo grinned lazily, leaning out of his open window and waving to the girl. "You need a ride?"

 

Aoi looked up and visibly brightened when she saw her cousin. Hopping off the suitcase she ran to greet Izumo as he got out of the car, her dress flying in the wind behind her.

 

"Izumo!" She launched herself at the man in her excitable way while her cousin skittered backwards a few steps, laughing.

 

"Aoi." His voice was amused, but affectionate as he returned the embrace, one hand on the top of her head. She was tall, now, taller than when he had last seen her. Then again, the last time he saw her she had been twelve years old. Since then she had, well, _matured_. Not grown, of course, her head didn't graze the bottom of his chin, but matured most definitely. “You look good.”

 

“And you look late.” Aoi stepped back, a childish grin sending her mouth askew. “What took you so long, idiot?”

 

“There were...complications.” Izumo explained as he picked up one suitcase and she picked up the other. “Don’t worry about it, it’s all sorted now.”

 

At least, he hoped it was.

 

**

 

“So I’m living with you above the bar, right?” Aoi asked in between sucks of a strawberry lollipop she had produced from her bag. They were in Izumo’s car, on the way back to the bar, and she had already made herself comfortable with her feet up on the dashboard and her seat laid almost flat.

 

“ _And_ working there.” Izumo reminded her. There was no way she was living with him rent free; the girl ate like a horse. The girl in question waved a hand dismissively, popping the sweet back into her mouth and sitting up. She began to fiddle with the tuning on the radio, her short, and a little pudgy, fingers twiddling the dials clumsily at first, trying to find some decent music. Izumo frowned and reached a hand out, clouting her over the head only a little lighter than he would with the boys. “ _Oi_.”

 

“I know, I know.” Aoi sighed in that exaggerated way teenagers do. “Jeez you’re so boring. I hope you haven’t turned _old_ on me.”

 

A little affronted but loathe to show it, Izumo turned his eyes back to the road.

 

“I prefer _distinguished_.” He told her. They were half way home now, the few trees that lined the side of the small roads disappearing as they entered the heart of the city where Izumo’s bar was situated. As he drove, Izumo slipped a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and placed them on his lap, shuffling one out and between his lips. After a few moments he had it lit and the remainder of the pack was back in his jacket.

 

“Oh God, you don’t still smoke do you?”

 

_One...two...three...four...five..._

 

Izumo took in a deep breath. It was happening already. He adored his cousin to the ends of the Earth and, normally, they got along brilliantly. However, there were a few subjects, smoking being one of them, that regularly caused arguments.

 

_Six...seven...eight...nine...ten..._

 

“Ah-you needn’t say it like that.” He said, still in his characteristic, cheerful voice. “Yes, I do still smoke.”

 

As if to demonstrate the point (or simply annoy her further, take your pick), Izumo removed the cancer stick from his lips and blew a steady stream of smoke out of the window. Aoi wrinkled her nose.

 

“You’re disgusting.”

 

“How charming you have become, Aoi. So mature, too.”

 

The two cousins bickered, in the same smartass way every member of their family seemed to, their way to the bar. By the time they had arrived, Izumo had put his cigarette out on the condition that she keep quiet about the subject for at least two days. Not that he was having regrets, but he was beginning to wonder about taking in his half-English, half-Japanese waif of a cousin. Really she _could_ have stayed in England with her parents, but for some reason she was dead set on leaving.

 

Izumo resolved to get it out of her, somehow. He wasn’t sure how that would work exactly, but he’d figure it out eventually.

 

He passed Aoi one of her suitcases from the back of the car and took the other for himself, shutting the boot easily with one hand and leading her towards the door of the bar. Anna could be downstairs, possibly Mikoto too and Tatara should have arrived by now. Apart from that he had left Rikio and Yata in charge.

 

Bracing himself for the worst, Izumo opened the door to find Tatara flying towards him. Used to the rowdiness, Izumo didn’t even flinch, though he noticed Aoi was a little taken aback at first.

 

“Ah-Kusanagi! You’re back!” Totsuka exclaimed, excitedly, running towards the door. “I’m trying out a new dish and I need you to-” He paused, noticing Aoi. “Oh, hello!” Entirely unfazed, he waved at the teenager and introduced himself. “I’m Tatara Totsuka; you must be Kusanagi’s cousin!”

 

“That’s me.” Aoi gave a bright smile and a wave. “I’m Aoi Tanaka, it’s nice to meet you.”

 

The boy seemed nice, she decided instantly. He had one of those rare, infectious smiles that brightens up anyone’s mood. He had mousy brown hair, wore white button down shirt and black trousers and had the top of one ear pierced, though he barely stopped moving long enough for her to notice it.

 

“You too. You just flew in from England, correct?” Tatara ushered Aoi inside, chattering as he moved. “I just finished baking; a new recipe of my own invention! I’ll bring it through; you must be starving (I needed someone to taste test it anyway).”

 

Aoi, now entirely at ease, allowed herself to be ushered and took a seat at one of the barstools while Tatara disappeared into the kitchen. Izumo, left with the bags, sighed heavily and picked them both up. He should have known Tatara and Aoi would get on, they were very alike. Neither of them shut up, for one thing.

 

“I’ll take these upstairs.” Izumo told Aoi. “Make yourself at home.”

 

Aoi gave the tired kind of nod everyone gives when they begin to realise that they are, in fact, tired, and rested her chin on her hand, her elbow braced against the bar. Moments later, Tatara relatively skipped out of the kitchen, a plate holding a cake balanced in his grasp. He talked a mile a minute, questions about the flight and England intermingled with ‘how old are you’s and ‘do you like cake?’, so much so that he had quite forgotten to introduce the two boys lingering in the corner, unable to decide whether they should make themselves known.

 

In the end Izumo did it when he returned, introducing Yata (who stammered, blushed and didn’t meet her eyes; a fact that Aoi never forgot) first and then Rikio (who gave a polite yet abrupt ‘yo’, though he didn’t seem unkind). In return Aoi named herself and, before she could try Tatara’s cake, was dragged away by her cousin, through the door by the bar and up the stairs. She wasn’t complaining; between you, me and Aoi, she wasn’t entirely sure the cake should be moving.

 

“This’ll be your room.” Izumo told his cousin, gesturing through the door they stood outside of. It was the last door down the corridor and, according to her cousin, had the best view. Next door to her was Izumo’s room, then another empty room. Across from there were the bedrooms of Anna and Mikoto, two friends of Izumo she had yet to meet. Secretly she fretted that Anna wouldn’t like her (being a friend of Izumo’s she would have to be at least twenty-one; and she probably smoked too). What if she thought Aoi weird? Izumo had warned her not to enter either of the bedrooms without permission, particularly if she went in unannounced, so there must be a reason for it.  

 

Aoi pushed open the door and grinned. It was simple; there was a bed pushed up against the left wall, a wardrobe on her right, and a desk in the far corner, overlooking a park. It was better than she had expected, honestly. She’d had half a mind to pack a sleeping bag.

 

“It’s great; thank you, Izumo.” She smiled sincerely at him. Izumo nodded his head, smiled, and backed out of the room.

 

“I’m glad you like it. I’ll leave you to get settled in, alright? Come downstairs once you’re done.” Aoi nodded and closed the door behind him with a sigh. She was exhausted, but happy. Izumo’s friends, so far, seemed nice; they didn’t hate her at least. Well, maybe Yata did (he didn’t even look at her!) but she supposed she would find that out later, when she got to know everyone better.

 

Kicking off her boots, Aoi opened up the first of her two suitcases and began untidily unloading her clothes into the wardrobe and scattering her makeup and hair things over one side of the desk. The other side could hold her writing things, she decided with a grin.

 

It was simple, but it was hers and it had been given (lent) to her by Izumo. That made it perfect enough to her.

 

“Right.” Aoi, hands on her hips, gave a purposeful nod as she appraised the room. Her suitcases were open and mostly unpacked on her floor, her boots lay skew-whiff on the floor and, just for good measure, she had tossed back the bedcovers and rumpled them a little. “Perfect."

 

Aoi left her bedroom, planning on going downstairs to her cousin, when she noticed two of the doors were now open.

 

Biting her lip in an attempt to hide her mischievous grin (though it only enhanced it), Aoi glanced down the corridor, over her shoulder, and slipped her head through the opening of the first door.

 

**

 

“What is it?” Mikoto looked down at Anna, who had wandered into his room for something or other (he was half asleep when she asked him, give him a break).

 

“Someone’s in my bedroom.” Her voice was small, almost emotionless, but her words were not without weight. Mikoto raised an eyebrow, sighed heavily and pushed himself up on one arm. Of course she wanted him to go and see, even though she knew exactly who it was. Mikoto had learned it was best not to argue with her.

 

Grabbing his shirt and tugging it on over his head, he stood up and wandered out of his own bedroom, not caring either way if Anna followed him or not. As it was, she followed close behind him as he walked the few steps between their bedrooms and leaned on the doorframe.

 

There was a girl in there, about seventeen or so, that was looking around the bedroom, her expression confused. After a moment, one hand scratching lazily underneath his shirt, Mikoto spoke up.

 

“Oi. What are you doing?”

 

 


End file.
